To Dust - An Undertale Short
by PsychoticDevil
Summary: A human has fallen into the underground - and they are on a killing spree. After an unsuccessful attempt to stop them, Papyrus barely manages to get away from the human, but the fight has left him severely injured nonetheless. With his last ounce of strength he tries to make it back to Snowdin Town, wishing to see his brother one last time. But his soul is slowly breaking apart...


Soft snowflakes were dancing through the air, blurring the warm lights of the small town that was hiding among the snow-covered firs in the distance. Trembling, he limped towards the welcoming glow, the snow quietly scrunching under his red boots. Each step was more exhausting than the last and with every movement he made a bit more of his strength was leaving his bones. Every inch of his body hurt. His fingers dug into the short, red cape covering his shoulders and part of his chest, as his splintered soul shivered under a wave of pain violently flashing through his bones. He had barely managed to escape the human, but they had landed quite a few vigorous hits on him. Countless bones were fractured or broken and a deep cut crossed his chest from shoulder to waist, with blood and faint blue traces of spent magic dripping onto the shimmering white snow at his feet. His body felt numb, only the twinge of his wounds and his crumbling soul being an ever-present shroud of burning pain. But he refused to give up just yet. One last time he wanted to see his brother. Only one last time, before his soul shattered into pieces.

Papyrus left a trail of dark blood in the snow, as he stumbled further towards Snowdin Town. Every step struck his bones with throbbing pain. He tried to keep his eyes fixed on the row of cabins in front of him, ignoring his injuries as best as possible, but he could feel his conscious slowly clouding, fading away with fragments of his broken soul. Still, with the warm lights of the town moving closer and closer he clung to his hope. His determination. He knew that he wasn't going to survive. His wounds were to deep, his soul too damaged already. But if he had to die, he at least wanted to spend his final moments with his brother. That was all that mattered to him.

Papyrus slowly made it past the small shed and the igloo to the right of the wooden house he shared with Sans. Gentle rays of orange light shafted through the windows, bathing his surroundings in a calming glow, almost as if they were welcoming him home. He couldn't help but weakly smile at the sight of the colorful strings of light and the fir wreath decorating the entrance and the rims of the snow-covered rooftops. He knew it was the last time he was going to see them.

When he had finally trudged up the stairs to the front door, he could barely stand anymore. His whole body was shaking, trembling with pain. It took all his strength to lift his hand, turn the knob and slowly shift himself against the door to open it. Papyrus stumbled inside, but lost his balance and flinched under the burning pain pounding through his bones, when he bumped into the table to the right of the entrance. With clenched teeth he fought down the urge to scream. It would only make the pain in his chest even more agonizing. The world turned upside down. His splintered ulna protested with a sharp sting, as he supported himself on the table with one hand, desperately trying to prevent himself from collapsing.

Knowing that Sans would be in his room upstairs, he wanted to call out for him, but only a weak, croaking sound of pain escaped his mouth. A perishing void of fear started to grow in his chest. Was he really going to die on the doorstep of his own house, without his brother being able to notice? Without a chance to say goodbye to him? Despite the pain it caused, he clenched his fists, just to convince himself that there was still some determination left in him. If he wasn't able to talk, the only way to get Sans's attention would be to get to his room and he definitely wasn't going to give up without trying. Papyrus took a moment to gather his strength, before he pushed himself away from the table and limped towards the stairs. But barely half across the room his legs gave out and the hellish pain struck his bones anew, as he hit the ground.

"Oh, hey bro, you're home." Sans's voice sounded muffled behind the closed door of his room. "What's all that noise about?" At least his brother knew that he was here now. Why had he not thought of simply knocking something over? He blamed it on the pain clouding his mind.

Papyrus tried to answer his question, but all that left his throat was another rasping sound. Desperate, he reached out and dug his fingers into the blue and purple carpet, dragging himself further towards the stairs.

"Paps?", Sans asked from upstairs. "Everything okay?"

Papyrus's vision grew blurry, darkness closing in from the sides, the pain pounding violently through his body.

"Papyrus?"

He could hear the clicking sound of Sans opening the door to his room, but couldn't find the strength to look up.

"Bro? What's going-"

For a split second there was silence. Then a faint sound, almost like a balmy breeze funneling down the corridor atop the stairs, and Sans suddenly standing right in front of him. Confusion let Papyrus forget the pain for a moment.

"How…?", he croaked, failing to form a full sentence. But he was fortunate to have been able to get a word out at all, though every sound he made stung in his chest like flames nagging at his bones.

Sans shook his head. "Doesn't matter." He fell to his knees, the expression on his face more than just worried. "What happened?" The calm undertone in his voice sounded forced.

Papyrus couldn't answer. Sans gently grabbed his shoulder and carefully helped him to roll over on to his back. The movement made his injuries scream with pain, but he didn't make a sound, knowing that it would only make the throbbing sting in his bones worse. The look in Sans's eye sockets turned into panic at the sight of the gaping wound crossing his chest.

"I'll get you a doctor." His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

Papyrus weakly shook his head. He knew that it was already too late. He had accepted his fate the second his soul had started to slowly fall apart.

"Paps, my healing magic won't even be enough for first aid with something like this." Sans gestured at his chest. His hand was shaking. "And trying to teleport you to a hospital will only make it worse."

Teleportation. So that was how he had appeared in front of him so suddenly. It didn't hurt him that he had never told him about it before – his brother would have had his reasons to hide this ability from everyone. He was just disappointed that now that he knew it was too late for him to learn anything about it. He would have loved to have his brother explain it to him.

"It won't take long, I promise", Sans continued in a begging tone.

Papyrus shook his head again and feebly grabbed his brother's wrist with what little strength he had left.

"...don't go..." His voice was merely a miserable whimper.

"But I… You..." Sans's eye sockets filled with tears. He seemed to realize that there was nothing he could do. He wasn't able to prevent the inevitable.

Papyrus ignored the stinging pain, as his brother gently dragged him onto his lap, so that he could lean his upper back against his ribcage. Sans carefully wrapped his arms around his chest and let his chin rest on his head. He could feel a tear drop onto his skull. Somehow, knowing that he would die in his brother's arms was oddly comforting.

"The human did this, didn't they?", Sans asked, his low voice sounding broken.

Papyrus responded with a slight nod. His brother remained silent for a moment. Even though he wasn't able to see his face, Papyrus could very well imagine the white lights in his eye sockets flickering with desperate anger. He wanted to tell him that the human deserved a second chance, despite everything they had done. He wanted to believe that there was still a glimpse of good left in them. But by now even a small movement like opening his mouth was too much of a strain.

"Please..." Sans's voice was quavering. "...please don't leave me, Paps. You're all I have..."

Papyrus couldn't fight the tears swelling up in his eye sockets. He had thought that he had been able to make peace with his fate. But now that it actually came down to it he realized that he had merely been deceiving himself. He wasn't ready to leave. There was so much left, so much he still wanted to do. So many things he hadn't seen yet. And who was going to take care of his brother, when he was gone? He didn't want to let any of this go. He didn't want to die.

Papyrus winced, as a sudden pain flashed through his body, even worse than before. A choking sound left his throat. His bones started to feel weird. Fear embraced his soul with cold claws, when he realized that he was starting to turn into dust.

"No, no, no..." Sans held him closer, his fingers clutching the red fabric of his cape, his forehead pressed against the top of Papyrus's skull. He could feel him shaking. "No. Please, no."

A hoarse yelp escaped Papyrus's mouth, as the pain got even worse. Every inch of his body was burning. His soul was being crushed.

"It's okay, Paps..." He could faintly hear his brother sobbing. His voice seemed to be miles away. "It's okay, I'm here. Just… just stay with me, alright?"

Papyrus didn't feel the tears running down his cheeks. All there was was horrible pain. He wanted to scream, cry, anything. But he couldn't. The world was dull. Dark. Silent. And even the pain was starting to fade. His limbs had been completely deprived of any kind of sense – or maybe they had already turned into dust entirely. He wasn't sure.

"...-ay...-ith...me...-aps..." Just fragments of Sans's whimpered words reached his mind. They didn't make any sense to him.

The pain had almost entirely faded from his body. He didn't know for how long he had been lying in his brother's arms, slowly turning into dust, unable to scream under the torturing burn. Time didn't seem to exist anymore. The only thing he could still feel was his soul being ripped apart. The pain was unbearable, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. He knew that it was going to be over soon. This was the end. But his brother was here with him, like he had always been.

"Thank you, brother… for everything..." He wasn't able to say it out loud, but he was sure the words reached Sans anyway.

For just a split second Papyrus could feel the presence of his brother's soul by his side. The comfort of it's familiar warmth dissipated his fear. Suddenly, death wasn't so scary anymore. He wasn't alone. He was right where he was supposed to be. A small, gentle smile spread across his face. He was ready to leave now.

Then there was nothing.


End file.
